Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
“Oh. Yeah, that was rhetorical.”
Truthfully, I’m languishing in a kind of mental limbo. Struggling with strange new emotions I can’t make sense of, which seem to intensify each time I allow my thoughts to drift and the memory of last night to surface.
I’m no doctor, but if I had to attempt an educated hypothesis, I’d posit that what I’m feeling is guilt.
Fenn’s hardly owed my sympathies, but I’m not a complete bastard—what transpired last night was a clear betrayal to our years of friendship. The guilt is weighing heavy right now. And it’s just one emotion among many.
In a way, Casey was my first. In that I was nearly, and somewhat regrettably, sober during the entire encounter.
Regrettable not because I didn’t thoroughly enjoy myself. I did. But I’m not at all accustomed to suffering the aftermath of my actions with a clear head.
“So what now?” I question as the flashlights bouncing like fireflies through the trees begin to converge on our position.
“Now we find Duke.”
When we arrive at the scene of the crime, I force myself not to look at the secret path that leads to the groundkeeper’s greenhouse. The small, secret haven where I brought Casey last night and probably made one of the biggest mistakes of my life.
The main greenhouse is packed with bloodthirsty guys who spent the afternoon doing push-ups and pulling money out of the ATM. In the center of the room, two emotionally stunted upright primates rip their shirts off, flexing their muscles for the ravenous audience, as they prepare to do primal battle in lieu of finding literally any other way to deal with the perpetual trauma of high school.
RJ marks Duke as soon as we walk in and proceeds to shove his way through the crowd toward him. I’m caught in his wake and unable to free myself from becoming a third wheel to their conversation.
“Look who’s come to slum it with the peasants,” Duke remarks with a sarcastic grin that doesn’t conceal his recent perpetual bitterness.
Lately, the dethroned ruler of the garbage heap has been acting like a divorcé watching his ex move in with her new boyfriend across the street.
“I came to deal,” RJ retorts as an offer of truce. “At this point I’d pay you to take this shit off my hands.”
“So you can’t hack it, huh?” Duke’s smile widens. “That crown is a little heavier than it looked, right?”
“I can’t understand why anyone would want it,” RJ groans back, utterly exasperated with the entire ordeal.
I swallow a laugh. Don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who craves power or authority less than RJ.
“This school is fucked, Jessup. These people are insane. All I want is to be done with all of it.”
“Say the word,” Duke offers, “and I’ll take the responsibility off your hands.”
“I have conditions,” RJ counters. “I’m not walking away just to let you revive your tyrannical reign.”
Duke rolls his eyes. Already bored and yet dripping at the mouth to start swinging his dick around.
“First, as far as your ‘rules’ are concerned, there is a demilitarized zone between us.”
Befuddled, Duke scoffs. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means, I’m exempt. From your bullshit rules and your taxes and whatever other crackpot, brain-wormed notions you come up with. From here on out, I’m a sovereign nation. Whatever transpires within my borders is none of your damn business.”
“Fine. Whatever.”
“Second, you leave Lucas alone too. Kid’s not made of money.”
“What are you, his mommy?”
I become distracted, or maybe it’s more akin to panic, because I suddenly spot Fenn strolling inside. He lingers near the door for a minute, sweeping his gaze over the shouting crowd, but although he’s no doubt clocked our position, he remains steadfastly standoffish. Which only heightens my anxiety. Now I remember why I do my damnedest to avoid sobriety. Frankly, I can’t recommend it.
Under ordinary inebriated circumstances, I might find my way to dismissing the whole thing out of mind. But Fenn’s been such a sad sack lately, constantly in a state of crisis, that it feels like I’ve just shot Bambi’s mother. And then fucked his girlfriend.
“With that out of the way,” Duke says to RJ with a slap on the back, “now we can be friends.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” RJ says dryly. “Do we have a deal?”
“Deal.” Duke sticks his hand out.
No sooner does RJ drop his guard to offer a handshake than Duke rears back and unleashes a left hook.
A loud exclamation erupts from the peanut gallery as the sophomore fight is abandoned for the hope of a real brawl to explode.
To his credit, RJ takes the sucker punch like a champ, though he’s going to have a fat lip come morning.
“Cheap shot,” he snaps at Duke.
“Sorry.” Duke smirks cheerfully. “Had to make it official. Now we’re square,” he says, because he’s the guy who has to have the last word. Always.